I.
I held her hand and tried
to keep my voice from shaking as I
whispered to her my love.
She squeezed mine in return,
smiled that sweet smile of hers, and
said she felt the same.
She traced the jawline covered in fat
but for once I felt beautiful,
her hands were in my hair and her
lips were so so close to mine.
Then she kissed me in the dark
so no one could see.
II.
I told her who I was
and she loved me anyway.
Even though sometimes she had a
girlfriend, and other times just a capsule
of spiky-haired affection.
She loved me in my binder and in
my bra, with my ******* and my briefs,
she said it didn't matter.
But she kissed me in the dark
so her mother wouldn't see.
III.
We were both at a party,
but from different social classes.
We both wound up in a quiet room,
and I wanted him to notice me.
He started talking and I let my mind wander;
talking made it seem real, as if maybe, by some force
of the world, we could actually be together.
He smiled enough for me to know
it was because of me, and he let his hands
brush mine for a minute.
And in the dim glow from the pary,
our reflections came nearer and nearer on the
glass doors giving way to the milky snow outside,
and as snow fell gently down to earth
my heart melted from the joy I felt.
Then he kissed me in the dark
so his friends wouldn't see.
IV.
Yes I know you love me,
and you make it clear your care,
but when you hide me away from the people in your life
I feel as if I shouldn't be there.
Yes you've whispered happiness,
and assured me of my beauty,
but when you ignore me when you're out in public,
is it because you're ashamed of me?
January 10, 2014 /itsjusterin
